


Don't Starve

by VioletThePorama



Category: Sam & Max
Genre: Angst, Eating Disorders, Gen, Guess who's on a roll tonight bois, I'm vry proud of myself for using characters mentioned in canon for their high school reunion, Its a very casual thing, M/M, Sam and Max are dating but they don't know they're dating, Sam has an eating disorder and probably depression, gonna post this instead of catching up on the sam and max week, i named sybils kid, shes a girl and her name is penelope, whoops
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-23
Updated: 2019-07-31
Packaged: 2020-07-11 21:09:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19934539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VioletThePorama/pseuds/VioletThePorama
Summary: Sam and Max go to a high school reunion, and it goes about as well as can be expected. It's all downhill from there.





	1. In Which Max is a Token Gay

Sam sat in the Desoto for a few moments longer than was probably socially acceptable, staring at the dash as he worked up his nerve to get up and go into the building. It wasn’t the first time they had gotten invitations to some sort of hangout or reunion with their old high school… friends.

It was the first time they were going, though. 

Sam was in a suit he had rented specifically for the occasion, while Max had refused to wear anything less than a frilly dress that he had  _ ‘borrowed’ _ from who knows where. 

Said lagomorph played with some silly putty in the passenger's seat. He glanced at Sam every once in a while, but seemed content with letting him sit for another few moments, so the dog stayed for a few moments longer, before getting out just before he judged that Max’s patience would end. 

“Come on, Max. Let’s go and see the washed up versions of our high school acquaintances and laugh about the good old days that were actually filled with more mutual anxiety and stress than actual fun.”

“I’m gonna brag about my newfound ability to dislocate my arm!” Max grinned and followed him, throwing the putty into the floorboard and going to his partner’s side. Sam waited for Max to grab his tie, and let the lagomorph half drag him to the gym. 

“You crack me up, little buddy.”

Inside was a crowd of people. It smells like some mixture of sweat, perfumes, and alcohol inside, and the decorations were nice but rather forgettable. 

Just like prom. Well, minus a bit of sweat. 

Sam took a moment to glance around for anybody he recognized. Max, surprisingly, hadn’t run off yet, so he probably hadn’t seen anybody (or anything) of interest either. Or maybe he just wasn’t looking.

To be fair, they hadn’t been the most social (or popular) in high school. Sure, they knew people. Sam had liked to at least keep track of all of the names of those in his classes, but he and Max had primarily stayed together. Despite that, there was surely somebody else there that they knew. 

“Come on, Sam,” Max huffed, and pulled him in further. 

One or two people took notice and waved to them, and Sam waved back, smiling nervously. 

They were finally approached maybe halfway into the room, where a lady seemed to materialize out of nowhere with a ragged looking gentleman in tow. 

“Max!” She exclaimed with glee, and then as an afterthought. “Oh, and Steve.”

Sam shifted. “I’m actually-”

“It’s good to see you again  _ Max _ . You weren’t at the other reunion.”

Max narrowed his eyes and shot him a confused look, and Sam decided to give him a bit of help in placing the girl. 

From what Sam remembered, she had had a crush on Max all throughout high school. 

She didn’t sit right with him for some reason.

“Aren’t you Jennie Tallarico?”

Jennie shot Sam a blithering glare before settling her gaze on Max, and pulling the man next to her over more. “That’s me. Here, you haven’t met my husband, Thomas.”

Thomas waved, opening his mouth to greet them before Jennie plowed on. The woman seemed rather rude, not letting anybody else get a word in. 

“Like I said, it’s great to see you. Why weren’t you at the last one?”

“The last what, woman?” Max huffed. He crossed his arms and bared his teeth. Only Thomas seemed to have the right reaction in stepping back a bit. 

“The other reunion, of course. Was it work? You  _ do _ have a job, don’t you?” She shot her husband a glare and let go of his hand. The poor man smiled, looking just as tired as Sam felt. 

“We were on a case during the last reunion,” Sam tried to explain, but the lady ignored him in favor of watching Max. 

“Like Sam  _ said _ ,” Max frowned. “We were on a case.”

“Why don’t you tell me all about that?” Jennie took the rabbit’s hand, and pulled him away from Sam. Max turned and waved his other hand at Sam in distress. 

Thomas gave him an apologetic smile before trailing off after them. 

Sam gave it a moment of thought, before ultimately deciding to keep an eye on where Max was being taken, and go to the snack bar instead. He planned to be back over there before Max lost what little patience he had and bit the girl, but the lagomorph could take care of himself. For the moment, it was time for  _ Sam _ to take care of himself. 

So the dog stepped over to the refreshments, looking over the probably-spiked-punch (quite nostalgic), and the actual alcohol next to it. There didn’t seem to be any water. 

There was a multitude of snacks at the bar, though, including anything from chips and salsa to melty ice cream. It looked delicious. 

Sam grabbed a plate and began loading cheeses and chocolates onto it, turning to grab-

“Are you really sure you should be eating more? You look like you’ve already eaten your way through a dump,” A voice said behind him. Sam flinched, nearly dropping his plate as he turned. He opened his mouth to make a defensive comment in his defence, before he saw the grin on the guys face. 

Oh. 

It was a joke.

“Don’t look so awestruck,” The guy grinned. “It’s me, Hargraves.”

Sam blinked, bewildered and hurt by the comment, since he hadn’t actually eaten anything yet. “Melvin? You’re still around?”

He hadn’t meant to say that last part, but Melvin just grinned in response. 

Melvin Hargraves had been among Sam’s old bullies, primarily through elementary and middle through, though the jock was still a nuisance throughout high school as well. He was much less stocky than Sam remembered, though. 

“I’ve been getting that all night. It’s good to see you. Glad you haven’t lost your sense of humor,” Melvin said, and Sam found himself doubting that it was actually nice to see him. It must have been apparent on his face, because Melvin stepped closer and put an arm around him. Sam was quick to step away. “Really, it is! I hear you and that hamster have made a name for yourselves around New York.”

Sam scratched his head bashfully, rather put off. “Well, our cases  _ do _ end in a lot of city-wide damage-”

Melvin poked Sam’s stomach and took his plate of food while the dog was catching up with the motion. “Come on, you’ve already had enough tonight.”

“Oh, I haven’t actually eaten yet-”

“Let’s go catch up,” His (former) bully said, ignoring him. “You remember Josh?”

Sam felt out of his element, with everybody else at the reunion talking more than he was. “The rich guy on track who couldn’t decide on a car, so he saved up and bought six of them?”

“That’s the one. Well me and him have been going to this gym for the past while. His wife got us on a diet, and it works wonders. I feel like a whole new person.”

Sam tried to muster up a smile. 

“Have you tried any diets? I bet you could really benefit from one.”

The smile faded, turning into something more of a grimace, accompanied by a low growl. Melvin dismissed the noise and pressed on, pulling Sam over to a group of people. 

The night went on with others taking up the conversation where Sam usually would, muffling him whenever he tried to speak, and talking about things and people that the dog hardly remembered or cared about. 

He didn’t get to eat any of the snacks from the bar like he had planned, and even when he finally escaped the group, giving some excuse about finding Max to people who didn’t really care, he felt too off to eat anything. Instead, he went to go find the lagomorph. Max hadn’t made any commotions during the ordeal, but he was probably (hopefully) ready to go.

“Max!” Sam called, nearing where he had seen the rabbit last. He got no response, but he did notice Thomas consoling Jennie over by one of the old, dilapidated water fountains. He made his way over. 

“Somebody sure looks like they were just told that their dog was killed,” Sam suggested as he strolled over, trying to maintain any control he still had over his self image. 

Jennie turned, and Sam noted the mascara that dripped down her face. “You and that  _ rabbit _ !” She cried. 

Sam cocked his head. “Did he do something?” There hadn’t been any screaming. 

Jennie opened her mouth, before Thomas put a hand on her shoulder and murmured something to her. Then, with a haughty sniff, she marched off to the bathrooms. 

“He turned her down is all, I think. Sorry about her. My Jennie gets kind of obsessive…”

The dog took a moment to glance the guy over. Thomas seemed nice enough. Unfortunate that he was with somebody like Jennie.

“So there was no maiming or anything?”

“No. If you’re looking for him, I think he’s over there in that group of girls,” Thomas turned to follow his wife before shooting Sam a puzzled look. “They really like him for some reason.”

Sam shrugged and watched him go, stuffing his hands in his pockets before he turned and shuffled over to where some ladies were crowded. 

Somebody passed by him with food. The smell wafted over. 

Hopefully they could go soon. 

Finally, Sam located Max, and took a moment to survey the scene. The lagomorph was sitting on a chair, in a circle with several women. They chattered back and forth, but seemed primarily focused on one of the louder, blonde ones, who appeared to be talking through each point of violent things that she wished on her ex. The surrounding girls would cheer at each one, and a few of them (including Max) would shout out another suggestion that was taken up immediately. 

Sam’s stomach dropped. It looked like Max was having a good time. 

He watched for a few moments. The sick feeling in his stomach was growing larger with every whiff or flash of food near him, but he wasn’t going to pull Max away if he was having fun.

He turned to go, before he heard Max’s shout behind him. “Sam!”

Sam glanced back as Max launched himself at the dog’s leg, holding on for a moment before pulling him towards the circle. 

“Come on! Rebecca over there, I think, is telling us about how one of her boyfriends was in a gang!”

Sam looked back at the chattering group. A few girls smiled at him, and he hesitated, stuck between being polite and  _ really _ not wanting to be there. 

One of the girls took pity on him. “It doesn’t look like he wants to hear the story, Max.”

“A pity,” Max grumbled, looking at him. 

“Sure is, little buddy. I’m a bit preoccupied right now, I just wanted to make sure that you weren’t up to anything.”

“I’m the token gay, Sam!”

The girl spoke up again. “He’s been fine. He has the cutest dress, too!”

“I do!” Max twirled. 

Sam glanced at the group. They all seemed nicer (and possibly more bloodthirsty) than the guys he had been with earlier, but… 

“You go on and talk with them some more, Max. I’ll be around.”

Max frowned at him briefly before seemingly forgetting what he was thinking, and going back to the girls. 

Sam walked away listlessly. He avoided any conversations people wanted to have with him, and went back outside where the smell of the food didn’t make him nauseous, and the noise from people didn’t suffocate him. 

Max didn’t join him at the Desoto for another few hours, staying until the party was close to over. Then the rabbit finally got in, he chattered about whatever he and the girls had been doing, but it all fell into the background for Sam. 

He didn’t really want to hear about it. 


	2. Why Are There Ads Everywhere?

Sam slept in late. There had been no call from the commissioner, and no nightmares had claimed his rest that night. Max was already up and watching TV when Sam finally got out of bed. Well, the lagomorph was more flipping through channels and bouncing a ball than actually watching anything, but at least nothing was on fire. 

Sam felt awful enough to have been hungover, even if he hadn’t actually had anything to drink the night before. He was sluggish and his head hurt and he felt vaguely dehydrated, so he went to drink some water, then to the fridge. 

It was rather barren. The milk had gone bad after being left out earlier that week, and the ice cream had been put in the meat drawer rather than in the freezer. There were a few moldy-looking fruits and some cheese of some undetermined age on the top shelf. Something was growing on the lightbulb in the back of the fridge, but Max had claimed that as a science project just before their last store trip. 

The freezer was a bit more full, having a few unappetizing looking TV meals and some glazed McGuffins. 

It was time for another store run. 

Sam stepped into the room Max was in. “Hey knucklehead, did you have anything to eat?”

“Why no Sam, I was planning on starving my cute bunny self to death and donating my body to science,” Max quipped, and threw the ball at him. Sam watched with rapt attention as the ball bounced off to be lost among their junk, only just keeping himself from chasing it. Max slouched down on the couch. “Plus we ran out of cereal.”

“While I love to support you in all of your endeavors, Max, I think it’s high time that we go by the store. Our fridge has as much food in it as Antarctica has ants.”

Max grinned, jumping up. “Can I go?”

Sam usually left max with somebody else when he went shopping, but the lagomorph was giving him a wide grin, and Sam couldn’t help but smile back. He was feeling a bit better, anyway. 

“Sure, little buddy. Just be on your best behavior. I don’t want anymore lifetime bans.”

“No promises!”

Sam got dressed and picked Max up like a football as they left. The drive to the store was uneventful, and Sam found himself feeling much better than he had the night before. 

He picked up and dumped Max into one of the shopping carts as they entered the store, despite the clear warnings not to. “Pick anything you want as we go past it.”

“Go to the adult toy aisle, Sam!”

“I don’t think those are the same kind of toys you're thinking of, pal.”

Sam pushed him down a few aisles, getting the essentials. Fudgesicles (how could he resist?), bread, milk, coffee and hot chocolate makings, incredibly sugary cereal (for Max), some “fresh” McGuffins, and some cherries, seeing as Max actually liked eating them ever since Sam told him that the pits had cyanide. During their trip, Max had piled on additional items such as bagels, a random assortment of spatulas, and whatever fruit or vegetable he thought looked funny. 

Sam looked over the cart, considering whether or not they had everything when Max stood up. 

“Where are you going?” He asked, puzzled. Max shrugged and grinned toothily. 

“I saw a giant teddy bear and I want to feel it’s organs.”

“Well I still have a few things-” Sam protested, stopping when Max pouted. “-Okay. If you promise not to nip at anymore kids, and only to tear up the things you want us to buy, you can go. I’ll be in the frozen dinner aisle. 

“Okay!” Max said, and leapt out of the cart, sending some of the nearby tomatoes to the floor. Sam quickly pushed the cart away from the scene, mortified at the thought of onlookers.

It took him a bit to find the frozen meals, as they seemed to be a different place in every store, but finally, he found himself browsing through them. 

Sam walked down, peering at each display. An ad caught his eye for a moment, displaying a happy little family with a smiling woman and-

It was an ad for a diet. 

There were some  _ ‘slim’ _ and  _ ‘low calorie’ _ options behind the ad, and Sam suddenly felt very targeted (and very aware of his weight) as he looked at the info-graph of a lady trying to fit into pants. 

He chanced a glance at the items in his cart, and felt sick at how many starches they had. Slowly, he picked up a few of the diet dinners, and placed them down next to the bagels… 

Shakily, Sam wheeled his buggy to another row of foods, and placed the fudgesicles back. 

Then the bagels and bread. 

He left the rest of the things, sure that Max (or  _ somebody _ ) would notice if he didn’t. 

There was another sign telling people about a diet, and Sam started at it for a long moment, only tearing away from the image when he felt something charge into his side. 

Max glowered at him. “You weren’t there!” 

The dog swallowed past the lump in his throat, glancing at the ad before he answered the bunny, because that’s what their pattern dictated he did. So he made a joke. “Where did you look?”

“... Feminine hygiene?” Max guessed. 

Sam shook his head, and the next words felt thick and wrong in his throat, and he  _ didn’t know why _ .

“You crack me up, little buddy…”

Max gave him an odd look for a moment, before he placed a half shredded teddy bear (not the large one he had mentioned before), a few bouncy balls, and some more silly putty in with the food. 

They paid, and left, and if Max noticed the dieting food, he said nothing. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if this is incorrect in any way!


	3. The Sad One

For an insurmountable amount of time (was it days, weeks, or even  _ months? _ ), Sam felt like doing absolutely nothing. He kept falling asleep on the couch during the day, and found it harder to get to sleep in his actual bed, despite the increasing amount of time he spent in it. They had no cases to occupy them, and there was never anything good on TV. 

The trip to the store had been the last time he had left the building, and Sam couldn’t remember the last time he’d made himself presentable to people. He had showered a few times, but even that was becoming tedious, as he found himself standing listlessly under the water whenever he attempted to clean himself.

Besides, the less that he was in the bathroom, the less he had to look at himself in the mirror.

Eating had become a chore. His stomach churned and ached and made him feel nauseous and ill every time he sat down with something, or smelt Max making something in the kitchen (his little buddy wasn’t allowed to use the oven, but  _ somehow _ , Sam had yet to ban him from the microwave or stovetop, as long as the lagomorph remembered to turn it off afterwards. There were notes on the dials.).

Strangely, in lieu of harassing Sam or trying to get him up, Max had taken to tiptoeing around him. In the first few days of his slump, when Sam was still trying to act like everything was normal, Max had poked some fun at him in an almost questioning manor, but Sam had brushed him off. The dog had expected him to get mad at the cold shoulder, or to double down on the comments when Sam didn’t feel up to defend himself, but instead was greeted with something bordering on concern (overbearing and suffocating as it was).

The lagomorph had begun bugging him about getting up and moving around the apartment (though the outside world was not mentioned). He bugged Sam into brushing his teeth and keeping up his hygiene, something that the dog found deeply ironic (and rather sad, in some sort of reversed and  _ wrong _ sort of way). 

Max bugged him into eating,  _ but he was never hungry. _

________________________

Sam laid on the couch, staring blankly at the static on their TV. A good round of percussive maintenance (hitting the side of the box. Possibly multiple times.) would have fixed it, but he couldn’t dreg up enough energy to get up, so static it was. He almost didn’t notice when Max walked in, grinning like he had won the lottery, or had beaten up somebody who had just won the lottery. 

“What’s got you so happy, pal?” Sam asked the cushion beneath him. Max sat on the arm of the couch. 

“I answered the phone,” Max said smugly. Sam sat up a bit to look at him, betrayed and upset. Max  _ never _ answered the phone! That was  _ Sam’s _ thing! But he hadn’t even heard it…

Sam swallowed and lay back down. 

“Was it The Commissioner?” He asked. Sam didn’t think he’d be able to go on any missions for the time being, but if they were really needed...

“No. It was Sybil. You know her kid?”

“Penelope?” Of course Sam knew her kid. 

“Yeah! Little Penny,” Max grinned. “She’s one, I think. And we’re invited.”

Sam blew out air, sorting through the months in his head. He hadn’t seen a calendar in… Well. He didn’t know. “To her birthday?”

“What else?”

Sam was too tired to point out the plethora of other options it could have been. Instead, he asked the more important question.

“How far is it from now?”

“Three days,” Max said, nudging him. Sam took a long time to comply, moving closer to the back of the couch so that Max could lay beside him on the thinner strip of couch available. 

Max worked his way under Sam’s arm. The dog let him, considering whether or not they could have done this weeks ago, when he had been fatter. He considered how difficult it was to fit both of them on the couch at the current moment. How Max looked like he was going to fall off the edge because of how much room Sam was taking up. How Max could tug at his shirt sleeve and it still wouldn’t have any folds, pressed so tightly around Sam’s too-large arms that looked bulky and stretched his shirts…

“You smell like a two week old carcass mated with a sentient pile of garbage in a dump.”

Sam pulled Max closer, putting an arm around him. 

“Really!” The lagomorph continued. “You should  _ bathe _ , or dip yourself in bleach, at the very least. Isn’t that what you’re always telling me?”

It took far too long for Sam to find the right words to respond with. He was usually so quick…

“It's harder to just toss me in the washer for a few hours than it is you, Max.”

“But not impossible!”

He scratched Max’s head, and the lagomorph leaned into his touch, a grinding noise working its way out of his mouth in some sort of horrifyingly soothing version of a purr. 

“You crack me up, little buddy.”

Max shifted, pressing against him. He felt one of the rabbits hands grasp at his shirt. Sam was vaguely aware of the brown, beady eyes boring into his soul as his friend lay and purred against him. 

A long time passed, and Sam was almost asleep by the time Max spoke up with something else to say. In fact, he missed part of it, only hearing the dreadful tail end-

“-Eat something, before we go…”

And then, not a please, but a plea. A worried

“ _ Okay? _ ”

He pulled Max into a full hug, wrapping his other arm around the lagomorph. He didn’t answer.

The purring had stopped. 


	4. The Chapter Where I Impose Several Headcanons And Have Max Slightly OOC

“Just meet up after meet up for us, huh Sam?” Max asked in the car. Sam glanced at him, taking his eyes off the road for a moment as he considered what the rabbit was referring to. It had actually been a while since the high school reunion, but they hadn’t really seen any action since that. 

“Yeah, it sure seems like it. They’re really keeping us on our toes.”

“Not that we need to be anymore busy,” Max snorted. “What with all the work we’ve had lately.”

Sam smiled faintly and looked back at the road. His stomach ached dully in the background, as it had for the past several weeks. He had eaten something the day prior around lunch, but had skipped the meals past that with the hope that maybe, he’d be able to stomach whatever Sybil expected them to eat at the party.

They arrived at the house, and Sam left the car. He gave Max a moment to vault the car and join him before walking to the door. 

“Ring it again!” Max implored after Sam pressed the doorbell. The dog shrugged and obliged, going to ring it. The sound reverberated through the house as the door opened. 

Sybil smiled at them. “Hey you two. Come on in. The birthday girl is in the kitchen with Abe.”

“Penny!” Max cheered. He shoved past her and vanished into the house. Sam followed more slowly, hanging over a bag with a decently new teddy bear in it. Miraculously, Max hadn’t shredded it yet. 

“Thanks,” Sybil set it down with a few other bags and boxes. 

Sam noted Papierwaite sitting on the couch, hunched over a bit with Dr. Norrington clearly displayed on his stomach. Along with him was Mama Bosco (her son still seemed to be missing) and Mr. Featherly, though the chicken looked like he wanted to be somewhere else. In the background were two meandering people that Sam figured were probably related to Sybil in some way, seeing as he didn’t recognize them, and the fact that they weren’t made of stone. 

Sybil glanced into the room, joining him at the edge of it. “Penny has already had a party with other kids. I thought it best to have any adults over at a separate time.”

“Max must be at the wrong party then,” Sam commented solemnly. “How was Mr. Lincoln at the kids party?”

“Oh! He was-” Sybil stammered before she seemed to come to a realization. “I need to check on something!”

Sam awkwardly scratched under his hat, glancing back to where the other guests were gathered as she hurried off into the kitchen. Probably to ensure that Max wasn’t doing anything dangerous with Penelope. Abe must not have dealt with the other party very well. Or maybe she just doubted his ability to handle Max. 

Max wouldn’t be causing _too_ much trouble, though. The lagomorph (when he wasn’t in some sort of mood) tended to like kids well enough when they weren’t annoying him. (Penelope wasn’t in that stage yet. The annoying part was more a toddler thing, based on what Sam remembered from Max’s multitude of siblings.) At most, Max was kind of rough and rather forgetful. He needed to have a passive eye kept on him so that he wouldn’t go over the top or forget what he was doing, but as long as he was focused, he’d be fine.

Sam walked over and sat in one of the empty chairs. 

“Hello Sam,” Mama Bosco greeted. She gave the floor around his chair a glance that was probably _supposed_ to be discreet. It wasn’t.

“Hey Mama Bosco. Is Bosco still spending Max and I’s life saving in Vegas?”

“Don’t worry about that boy right now,” She huffed. Well. That was that.

The dog noticed Papierwaite giving him a look from the side, and offered a grin. 

“It’s _you_.” The man sighed.

Sam frowned faintly at the hostility. “Yeah? And…?”

Papierwaite shook his head, and Dr. Norrington moved (as much as he could), looking at Sam. 

“Sam, it’s good to see you. How’s this version of Max?”

The wording was vaguely unsettling.

“Sam-I mean Max is in the kitchen. He’s probably passing his ability to unhinge his jaw to Penelope right now.”

Max stepped in a few seconds after his statement, holding the birthday girl and grinning with razor-sharp teeth. Sybil followed behind him closely, and Abe went past them to speak with the people Sam didn’t know. 

Max sat down on the available space on the couch. He had more of a careful approach to it than his usual disregard for safety or room, due to the bundle of baby girl in his arms. “Isn’t she cute, Sam? She could grow up to be a serial killer.”

Sam looked at her. She was alright, for a baby. Kind of bulbous, grey, and Sam was pretty sure she was actually some kind of rock. Her features were cut from stone-

Okay. He needed to stop. 

“That’d be pretty cool.” Sam agreed. It came out a bit more subdued than usual. Max shot him a look as he handed off the baby to Sybil, and the dog continued on, as the situation called for him to. “As we all know, anybody you meet on the streets could potentially be a serial killer-”

“So your best bet is to kill them before they can kill you!” 

“Precisely.”

The room lapsed into quiet after their exchange, and Sam was still tuned out when it started back up again. He looked at the baby for a while, trying to muster up some excitement. But he didn’t really get it. Penny wouldn’t remember having the birthday, so really what they were doing was pointless.

After a while, Max nudged him, and the dog realized that he had been addressed. 

“-Sam?” Sybil asked, though he didn’t actually catch what the question was. 

“Oh uh. Sorry, I didn’t get that.” Everybody in the room seemed to be judging him. All of the side conversation had halted when he didn’t respond to the question addressed to him, which meant that everybody was looking his way-

“What kind of pizza do you like?” The mother questioned. Why couldn’t Max have answered that? His pal knew what to say, and was probably just being difficult, though a glance at said lagomorph proved this false. Max just looked puzzled. 

Sam sighed.

“You don’t have to get me anything. I didn’t realize we were doing pizza, and had some food before Max and I came over.” Sam lied. If they were doing cake that night, it would be even ruder to turn that down than pizza, and he needed to hold off, especially since cake had more calories. 

“Are you sure?” Sybil asked, glancing up from her list. Sam nodded in response, feeling guilt pool in with the rest of his dread and self-hatred. 

“Alright, what about you, Mrs. Bosco-”

“No you didn’t,” Max interjected suddenly, blinking at him in bewilderment. Sam looked at him, suddenly panicked. What was he- “You haven’t eaten since yesterday.”

Sam swallowed, feeling the rooms eyes on him again. He tried to laugh it off. “I don’t know what you mean, little buddy-”

“You haven’t been eating,” The lagomorph huffed, laying back on the couch.

Sam felt like he was burning. The room was entirely too hot, and Max was drawing attention to him in a way that he didn’t want, _just like he always did_ , and the dog found himself growling under his breath, animalistic and threatening. Max needed to quiet down.

The baby whined from where Mama Bosco held her. 

Instead of helping him shut up (threaten) Max, Sybil gave the rabbit a concerned look. “What do you mean he hadn’t been eating?”

“I mean he’s having another depressive episode or something and is eating less regularly than normal,” Max grumbled. Certain words felt like they had been practiced before, repeated time after time in the past, and the lagomorph's posture was tense and bordering something defensive. But Sam was more caught up on “another”. ( _Another?_ Sam couldn’t recall ever feeling like he did now for such an extended period of time. For brief instances, maybe. Sometimes he crashed after a case, or felt sick when he saw what other people bought at stores compared to the _junk_ in their cart, and after Max had **died** had been a rather rough time for him but-)

“Max, that’s enough,” Sam stated firmly. “Sybil, you don’t need to get me any pizza, and you don’t need to worry about whatever Max is saying, because he _doesn’t know what he’s talking about_. He’s hit his head a few too many times.”

Max sat up, looking at him closely. “Haven’t you ever…?”

“Ever what?” He snapped, feeling naked. Sam almost looked down to make sure he was actually wearing his shirt, and those pants that were supposed to hide fat rolls-

“Oh,” Max murmured. 

Then, Sybil was pulling him through the kitchen and out the backdoor with Max trailing along after them. 

Once they were in the backyard, she spun around. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing-” He began, and was cut off. 

“Fine. Max?”

The lagomorph shuffled and shifted, put on the spot. “He’s never talked to you about one of his things before?”

“Things?” Sybil asked sharply.

“His… depressive episodes?” Max asked, finding the words. (Once again, practiced.) “He’s never talked about his episodes here?”

Here. _Here_ …

“What do you mean?”

“This timeline?” He tried. “You don’t know about the eating thing?”

Sybil shook her head, and Sam looked down, pressing a hand against his stomach. He felt ill. 

“I assume I did in the other timeline?” She asked carefully, and Max nodded, blinking at her. “Do you know what he has?”

Sam hated how focused and _clear_ Max was that day. 

“He hates how he looks.”

Sam wanted nothing more than to curl in on himself and disappear into nothing. 

“How long has he been having this episode?”

“The reunion?” Max hazarded. For the life of him, Sam didn’t know how long that had been. Max probably didn’t either, but Sybil seemed to. 

“Anything else?”

The rabbit shrugged. 

“We’ll talk later. Tell me anything else as you remember it.”

Sybil turned back to Sam, who found the ground very interesting. There was a ladybug down there. 

“Do you want to go home?” She asked him, instead of anything else he had expected.

“What?”

“Do you want to go home? You probably feel awful right now, and I’m not a therapist right now-”

“What are you?” Max asked innocently. 

“I’m a chicken sexer. But that’s besides the point. I may not be a therapist right now, but I was one, along with a nutritionist, and I know that you should be getting more regular rest and a more regular food intake than whatever it is you’re getting. Then you can work your way up to getting back on your feet.”

Sybil moved to take his hand, but he pulled away sluggishly in response.

“You can’t keep starving yourself, okay?” She asked, and looked genuinely worried. He nodded, feeling sick and sort of like he was going to cry. 

Max pressed up against his side. Sam couldn’t find it in himself to be mad at the lagomorph for revealing his problem. He couldn’t find it in himself to do much of anything. 

The next thing he knew, Sam was being herded into a car that wasn’t the Desoto. Then Sybil was going through their fridge, and placing something in front of him. 

He couldn’t remember eating or tasting anything, but he felt the weight of it in his stomach, and of Max, clinging to his side up until the dog was in bed. 

Only then, did the rabbit begin to peel away from him. 

“Wait,” Sam murmured. 

“Sorry.”

“... What?” Sam paused, puzzled and bewildered at both the apology, and the sheer suddenness of it. 

“You want a ‘sorry’, right Sam? You don’t like being in front of people, and you were when I mentioned it.”

Oh. 

Sam sat up a bit, and took Max’s hand. 

“Stay?”

Max moved back to his side, watching him closely. He waited for Sam to pull him down to murmur his, “... Okay.” 

They laid together. 

“... Sam?”

“Yeah?”

Max pressed against him. “What’s a chicken sexer do?”

“You crack me up little buddy.”


End file.
